


His Heistess

by AEM888



Category: GOT7
Genre: AU, Crime, Crime Boss AU, Crime ofc, F/M, Gangs, Implied Sexual Content, Jackson is a whipped man, Reader is a low radar thief, Redlight District-esque, Robbery, Romance, Some skimpy old guy tries to touch you but lol i think not, Violence, illegal stuff, mob boss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 05:38:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14867660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AEM888/pseuds/AEM888
Summary: Being a typical university student was the standard life of those around you.  Go to school early in the morning, attend your classes as you carelessly doodle in your notes, pretending to care.  Afternoon rolls around and you leave to go to work until dusk before you’re mindlessly walking home to marathon a stupid reality show until late before you crawl into bed, not even bothering to remember if you had homework.  It was a typical life, one that most-if not all-university students should have suffered.But your life was different.  The difference between that life and yours was something people wouldn’t guess when they first look at you at face value.  When they saw you- framed glasses and bed hair that you just couldn’t be bothered to try and tame, with a bag on your back- they just saw a student trying to earn a life after high school. But, no one would expect you to be hiding a mask and small knife in the cut out, handmade secret pocket in that bag you carried with you everyday.





	His Heistess

**Author's Note:**

> Cross posted on my Tumblr Blog
> 
> Check it out: https://kpopisthereasonihavenolife.tumblr.com/

You weren’t a killer, but you weren’t an innocent woman either.  You’ve committed your fair share of crimes, and yes you have killed a man, but it was entirely self-defense.  You’re specialty laid in petty theft. Nothing too large scaled, but stealing things you needed. It wasn’t a big deal until you had got yourself caught up in a mess where you were had stupidly agreed to do a job with a low named gang.  

One job was all you agreed to, but that one job is all it took for your mask to be familiar to the police.  The plan was to provide protection for a robbery job, and you did just fine, but when you heard the faint sounds of the sirens in the back and the moving security camera in the corner of the ceiling, you bolted.  You weren’t going to risk your neck for a group of people who didn’t know who you were to begin with. You were completely anonymous.

After that, you started keeping you mask, pistol and combat knife at home, tucked away until a small cut away cubby you made under your couch, but opted to keep your small pocket knife on you at the very least. You can never be too careful, never knowing whose eyes are where or who might be watching you.

You had just finished a long day of classes and stopped by the closest music store on your way home.  You had recently gotten into a band and wanted to stop by and listen to any demos they had on other albums they have released or even buy an album or two.  You were standing in front of an isle, a pair of headphones hooked into the wall as you place them on your head and sifted through the music selections. Then your world drowned out as the headphones deafened everything else.  

As you listened to the music blaring into your head, you were reading title tracks that were printed on pamphlets and album cases, not aware of the chaos behind you.  You were brought out of your zoned state when a child bumped into the back of your knee, making you stumble forward a bit, the headphones falling off your head and onto the floor,the cord connected to the wall console bending to accomodate for the drop.

You went to ask the small child if he was alright, or if he needed anything when you were interrupted by shouting from the front of the store and gunshots.  There was no way this was happening. The music store, was it really being robbed?! You watched as the little boy clung to your leg, shaking. You put your hands on his shoulders and bent to try and comfort him, maybe even protect him.  

“Hey!”  You jumped and gripped the boy tighter to your lower half as you whipped your head around to see a masked man stomping towards you, a hefty looking firearm looped over his shoulder with a strap as he held it.  You glared at the masked man as he grabbed the boy by the back of his shirt, making you lift your foot and slam your heel into his knee. He released the boy momentarily as you grabbed him again and ran to the front of the store.

You expected there to be more people than just the mask man you left behind, and you were right.  Two other men stood at the front, one by the door, the other ziptying people’s hands behind their back.  You glared at the two as the one by the door went towards you, you gripping the boy towards you again.

You gasped as you felt your hair being tugged backwards and the boy simultaneously being pulled away from you.  You heard the boy whimper as you pulled back against the force holding your hair, wincing but wanting to hold that child against you again. But, all you got was the sound of the boy hitting the ground as his hands were tied and he was sitting with the rest of the hostages.

The grip on your hair was lost as your arms were seized and pulled behind you before you felt the burn of the plastic of a zip tie on your wrists before you were shoved forwards and pushed onto the ground, landing less than comfortably next to a man as you lay on your side, glaring at the three of the robbers.  

As the men walked away from you, you felt someone’s knee behind your back, pushing you, almost trying to help you sit up from your uncomfortable lying position.  Looking over your shoulder, you were met with a dark haired, deep eyed Chinese man. Like you, even if you were in a hostage situation, he didn’t have a look of fear in his eyes.  

You didn’t recognize him, and he didn’t know you, but he could already tell exactly what you are. You were a fighter.  Jackson Wang could recognize the fire in someone’s eyes at any point, and at any time. Your gaze was particularly fierce.

He was able to see you in the back of the store through shelves, and he watched as you tried to protect that little boy.  That same little boy who was shaking and tied up beside his mother. He watched as you fought back to get to the doors, and how even when you were grabbed, you shot an unshaken glare at the scumbags touching you.  He grew more and more annoyed as you were pushed around and tied, then being shoved to the ground.

He pushed you up as you sat with your legs propped up, your chest leaning forward on your knees as your hands fiddled around behind you.  You winced as your skin twisted and pulled with the plastic of the tight tie. Jackson had watched you as he leaned towards you slightly.

“What are you doing?” His sudden voice startled you and you jumped slightly as you looked at him. You stopped fiddling for a moment as the man who was walking to and fro, surveying the civilians trapped in the store, walked towards you and waited until he walked away to start up again.

“I have a knife in my back pocket.”  He moved his gaze to your lower back, indeed seeing the thin lump in your pocket.  “If I can get it, I can get out of my ties.” Jackson only smirked at your attitude.  He scooted towards you, even hooking one of his legs over yours to pull you closer to him.  You stopped trying for your knife for a moment to look at him, brow raised. “What are you doing?”

“It’ll be easier to dig for a knife if no one can see you.  I’ll keep you covered, so search away.” The smirk on his face the the low octave of his whisper sent a shiver down your spine.  You didn’t know why, but he almost seemed amused at the entire situation. He wasn’t fearful, he wasn’t worried, he was completely calm.  Was he made out of rubber and oil instead of skin and blood?

“Yeah, thanks.”  You muttered to him as you kept your head low in concentration and finally managed to shimmy your knife up your pocket opening and grab it.  You flicked it open, forcing a cough at the same time to mask the sound of the ‘click’ it made when the blade locked in place.

You flipped it around to hook it between your wrists and with the awkward grip you held backwards on the knife, pulled it and cut the ties, skimming your skin in the process.  You winced as you felt the small slice of skin begin to bleed. Jackson watched as you jumped and hissed through your teeth and looked behind you to see your blood slowly slide down into your palm, your tied cut and laying on the ground behind you.  

“Hey,” he whispered, wanting to know if you were alright.  You just looked at him as you watched the man by the door, he wasn’t looking, and the man walking back and forth had his bath turned.  The third man was in the backroom, you didn’t know why, but that wasn’t important right now. You reached behind him and quickly cut Jackson’s ties as well, making sure not to cut him like you did yourself.

You dropped your knife behind him accidently, as you scrambled to act like your hands were still tied, as were Jackson’s before he picked up your knife, closed it behind him and slid it up into his long sleeved black shirt, holding it there. The man walking heard the clatter of your knife hitting the hard floor and made his way towards you.  

“Wait for him.”  Jackson muttered in your ear, as he knew just as well as you that as soon as he was close enough, you were ready to spring up and pick a fight with him.  You were still seething over how that man could lay a hand on a child, and you were determined to beat some sense into him. Ironic, a hidden criminal planning to beat a public criminal.

Just as he was close to you, the little boy from earlier began to cry.  Whimpered to his mother that his wrists hurt, and he wanted to go home. The noise was apparently not welcomed by the man as he turned on his heel and was ready to walk to the boy and shut him up.  You jumped up, earning gasped from the people and before Jackson could do anything to stop you, you were jumping on the back of the black clad man.

You jumped on his back, legs wrapped around his torso as your arms hooked around his neck, under his chin.  You used one of your legs to kick the gun out of his hand as he stumbled backwards, and soon was tripping on his own feet.  While you dealt with the man who had already done enough to piss you off, Jackson hoped up and rolled his eyes, but with a smirk was determined to watch your back.

“Women.”  He shook his head as he headed for the man at the door, his goal to take him out.  

Your man had stumbled over his feet, earning him a place on the ground, as you had fallen off of him from the impact of him hitting the tile.  You quickly found yourself under him, his hands around your throat, and his legs pinned on either side of your chest.

You bucked your hips up to make him fall forwards, and even if the pressure was increased on your throat, you grabbed his mask and ripped it off his face.  No matter what, you would see at least one man’s face today. You quickly then used your cut wrist to smear your blood into his wide, shock filled eyes. He shouted profanities as he pushed off you, rubbed furiously at his eyes as you lay coughing on the ground, throat bruised.  

Jackson had already taken care of the man at the door, taking his gun before the round that was pointed at you was fired, and slamming the hilt of the gun into the man’s temple.  He’d wake up less than pleased Jackson was sure, but the fact that he even thought about pointing a gun at you made his blood boil. He watched as you smeared blood into your fighters face and writhed on the ground coughing, and watched as your throat held a darkened tint, unlike earlier.  Bruised is what your throat was.

Jackson strode, almost too calmly, towards the made wiping at his eyes and lifted his leg to slam the heel of his black boot into the back of his head where his neck connected with his spine.  The man was out cold. He dragged the unconscious man over by the other at the door and tied them both with their own zipties before he checked on you.

You had recovered, still rubbing your sore throat.  

“You good?” You nodded at him as you looked at the doorway.  There was no telling when the third would be coming out. You had half a mind to go look for him and bring the fight, rather than wait for it, but Jackson knew better.  “Wait for him. If he got the upper hand back there, things won’t work out well up here. That little boy could get hurt.” He noticed how you seemed to care for the child, and that was what was holding you back.  

“Fine.”  Jackson then moved to grab your bleeding wrist and looked it over.  It wasn’t bad, but you still had to take care of it and disinfect it before it got any worse.  You then took your knife back and began to cut the people out of their ties and quietly sneak them all outside.  They were taken out one by one, and the police were still not on scene. Leave it to them to be lousy at their job at a crucial moment.

Once everyone was out, even that little boy, you and Jackson stood on either side of the doorway, waiting for the man to come out.  He would expect a room of tied up civilians, but instead he’d get his two tied up men-out cold-and a pair of stubborn fighters. Jackson had taken the liberty of taking the handgun from one of the other’s side hostlers and held it in his hand lazily.  

When the two of you heard the footsteps of the man, you both stilled your breath and once the tip of nose of the man was past the threshold of the doorway, Jackson slammed the magazine of his newly acquired gun into his throat.  He immediately began choking as he bent over, where he was met with your knee to his face, hearing a solid crack of his nose. Blood dripped quickly down his lips and off his chin as he stumbled to his knees where Jackson then slammed his head into the door frame with his foot, making the man fall ungracefully unconscious.  

You were going to thank him for his help, but suddenly didn’t have the time.  You began to hear the sirens of the police in the not-so-distant outside walls of the store and everything seemed to fall back into place.  You were no hero, the police knew of your anonymous masked face, and you couldn’t risk getting caught. You were quick to spin on your heel and bolt into the back room where you found a window large enough to squeeze an average sized man out of that lead into a back alley.  

Jackson followed you just in time to see you jump from the window and run, but not without leaving something behind.  Jackson went to the space you once stood as he picked up the one object you left behind, the one thing you didn’t realize you dropped.  Jackson had picked up your knife. He smirked as he flicked it open before he closed it again and tucked it into his pocket.

He walked back out into the open, empty room with the three unconscious men.  Jackson wasn’t a man who cared about crime that hadn’t involved him. But, for some reason the image of these men causing harm to you enraged him.  He didn’t know why, but for some reason you intrigued him.

Your actions, your nature, your eyes, you body, your anger.  Everything about you just seemed to rope him in, and he didn’t even know your name.  He didn’t know the first thing about you expect that perhaps you had a soft spot for child and that without a doubt you knew how to fight and you were experienced.  

He already had a few theories swimming around in his head on who you may or may not be, but he pushed that side as he cocked the loaded gun he still had in his hand.  He pointed the barrel at the man at the door he took out first. Then the man who you fought and finally the man who you both subdued. Three shots, three bullet in the heads of three men.  Maybe you didn’t want them dead, but Jackson _absolutely_ did.  

Jackson followed your lead and quickly took to the back window and climbed out just as he heard the police barge into the building, babbling on about how the bodies had bullet wounds in the head, but he wasn’t interested in sticking around any further.  

He walked the alley until he walked out of it almost too casually.  The crowd around the music store let him walk freely until he was met with a familiar face of the man he was walking with earlier; rather the man who was following after his boss all day. Jackson sauntered over to him, a smirk on his face as he kept fidgeting with your pocket knife he had in his pocket.  

“Sir, you can’t just wander off like that.”  Jackson rolled his eyes as he just walked past the man. “Sir!”  Jackson just called out behind him.

“We have work to do.”  The man followed Jackson back into an old warehouse that seemed to be hidden in plain sight.  He walked right in, seeing familiar faces of workers and those of his, quote unquote, _partners_.

“There was a robbery downtown today,” started one of his allies, red tinted hair, tall with a sharp jaw.  “I bet you had a ball.” Jackson just moved to sit on a small couch he had in the open area as he pulled your knife from his pocket and flicked it open.  The same man who spoke before, spoke again. “That’s not yours.” Jackson smirked.

“Correct.  It’s not.” He tossed the knife onto the small coffee table in front of him as he leaned back against the couch cushions, his arms up on the back of it on either side of him, his legs crossed.  “I want it ran for fingerprints. Whatever prints aren’t mine, find out whose they are.” The knife was picked up by a Thai, bleached hair man as he examined it.

“Looking for someone?” Jackson just tilted his head as he smirked again.  

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out for me.”  The Thai man stood up and disappeared into a back room before Jackson continued on with his day with his standard runs.  The music store was a bump in today’s schedule, but if that bump lead him to you and lead him to figure out just who you were, than he can overlook the minor details.

2 days later you were still bruiting over the fact you had lost your knife.  You had figured you dropped it somewhere only for some lucky soul to pick it up and call it their lucky day for a new, free knife that was in relatively good condition.  You’d sigh about it, but you ultimately had to go out and get a new one. You didn’t really have the idea to just waltz into a store and purchase one, those store bought ones were always flimsy.   

You sat in class, twirling your pencil as you thought about your options.  You could opt for just stealing one, it was what you did, but you also had the option of getting a hold of one of your connections you’ve managed to snag in your line of work.  On the right terms, they’d set you up with a deal, but then you’d have to give something in return. The whole ordeal was a bit much, but it was a steady flow at least.

That afternoon, you waltz out of class, clutching your phone as you looked at the number of the contact that was only known as XXX.  As you were ready to send a text to them as you rounded the corner of your campus gate and found yourself running into someone.

You bounced off their chest, as you stumbled back and they gripped your arm, keeping you upright just in case you showed signs of falling backwards.  You shook the initial shock from the collision off and looked up to the face of the person, ready to apologize.

“Sorry.”  You were looking into a pair of dark eyes, they seemed familiar on the attractive man.  Where had you seen him before? You were usually good with faces, but his escapes you for some reason. You watched as his face split into a smile and he clicked his fingers as he let go of your arm.

“I know you!”  He exclaimed. You jumped back a bit, shocked at his loud outburst.  A few onlookers glancing your way as they giggled or rolled their eyes.  When he opened his mouth again, he was at least quieter. “I was with you at the music shop the other day.”  It clicked. He was the man who helped you in the music shop. You clicked your fingers as you pointed to him, trying to keep the idea of you being just a normal student up.

“Oh yeah.  I remember you now.”  He smiled as he grabbed your wrist, pushing your sleeve to see a large, tan bandage over where you accidentally cut yourself.

“How's the cut?”  You shrugged, pulling your wrist gently from his grasp as he seemed to want to hold onto it longer.  

“It’s not bad.  Might scab or scar for a while, but it’ll fade.”  You looked up at his face. Something in his eyes seemed different to that day.  They were dark in the music shop, but now they were almost brighter as he kept smiling at you.  Maybe it was the afternoon sun working it’s magic in his brown eyes that was making them appear that way.  

“So, you’re a university student?”  You looked back at the school campus gate and then back to him.  

“I am.  Living life you know, gotta get educated while also pile up my debt.  What’s life without those fun experiences, you know?” He chuckled at your sense of sarcasm as he spoke again.  

“I never did get your name.  I’m Jackson, if you wondering.”  You nodded.

“Y/N.”  He nodded.  He lied when he said he didn’t know your name, sure he didn’t get it from you, but he sure knew who you were.  

L/N Y/N, a university second year student. Majoring in your field of choice and very smart.  Textbook and street smarts were a specialty of yours it seemed. You haven't lived in the busy, large city of Seoul for long, only a few years.  You had a father in the countryside, mother that was abroad and separated from your father, and a half brother that lived in Germany now. He knew your family background, your age, your heritage, where you’ve been and how long you’ve been there, even some of your friends in which he had caught sight of when he would be watching you via street cameras.  

He had learnt of you attending the academy the same night he met you after Bambam, the Thai, had identified your prints.   He watched your movements, and luckily for him, he was able to learn the streets in which you used to travel back home to your apartment complex.  He caught sight of you from a street camera as he saw you through the windows and he watched you. He knew that there was something up with you, you weren’t just some normal student.  

Then, as he was sitting and analyzing you, he watched as you had shut the windows curtain, but that didn’t stop the shadows from telling him who you were.  He watched as you placed something over your face, flipped up a hood and stuffed something in your pocket before you shut the light off and minutes later he watched you leave from the always empty backdoor of your complex.  

He had heard of the masked thief that had been running around for quite some time now, but he wasn’t necessarily interested in forming any connections with them.  But this, _you_ , changed everything.  

He was sending men to silently watch over you, and if someone was on your back, or even giving you a brief glance that could be considered unfriendly, they were to act.  Should harm be done to you, he would throw a fit and no one would wanted that. Jackson’s fits would normally involve a gun or two.

“Hey, would you mind if I took you somewhere?”  Jackson proposed as you just shot your brow up and looked at him.  “Consider it a thank you for your help the other day. I wanted to ask you after it all died down, but I couldn’t find you.”  That made sense you guessed.

“I suppose it’s alright.  I can’t be out too late though.  I have a lot of cramming to do.” Jackson’s smile widened as he dragged you off.  You ended up getting home later than you wanted, but you weren’t too upset about it.  Hanging around Jackson almost made you feel normal, like you weren’t this two faced criminal who stole for a living.  Heists were your specialty, yet Jackson made you feel like an actual normal college student.

But, that had to be put behind you for now, because now you needed to go out and see what you couldn’t go and get done about getting that new knife.  

You left the complex as you normally did, and had entered a relatively quiet part of the city, but it reeked of underground criminal activity.  Illegal fight clubs, drug deals, street fights, hookers, nightclubs, bars, job deals, the whole shebang. You always hated coming here, it was like the secret redlight district of Seoul and for some reason hardly anyone innocent knew about it.  It was like it had a mask over it, just like you.

You had walked into a over crowded, must and sweat smelling night club as you walk to the bar, taking a shot glass offered to you by the bartender who knew your mask.  You noticed the many glances you got from people who knew you, but none kept their eyes on you. Expect one man. Hooker on his lap with his two lapdogs hovering over his shoulders like he’s someone important.  

Shifting the mask to the side just a bit to take the quick shot, you slammed the small glass onto the bartop and pinned a bill under it for the drink.  You didn’t need to pay, but a small portion of you felt bad for the bartender for suffering in this atmosphere. You waltz outside the back and into a side alley as you stood against the wall, arms crossed.  If the gaze that man was giving you meant anything, it meant to wait a while before actually leaving.

Not three minutes later you were met with the door opening and those three bodies stepping out.  The man and his faithful dogs. You rolled your eyes under your mask as you kept your body relaxed and arms crossed.  The door slammed shut behind him and you found yourself in the barely lit alley, the stench of alcohol wafting under your mask.  It was sickening.

“Haven’t seen you around for a hot while Mask.”  You rolled your eyes again. Can’t people come up with a better name?  

“I do have other things to do.  Unlike you, I don’t waste every waking minute with a beer in one hand and whore’s ass in my other.”  He clicked his tongue at your brisk remark, but you disregarded it, not really caring about his feelings or ego being bruised.  “I need a knife.” He scoffed at you.

“Oh, and you believe I’ll supply you with one?”

“Relatively speaking, yes. It is your job to supply people with things should they require it.”  The man strode closer to you, getting to where you could feel your chest just barely brush his. His disgusting breath was thick, even under your mask.  

“Their must be payment, as I know you’re well aware young lady.”  His hand crept you your waist, squeezing your hip and slowly slithering behind it.  You were a woman of work, but you weren’t going to whore yourself out to some sick bastard when all you wanted was a good knife for work.  You slapped his hand away from you.

“I’m not going to let you touch me as your sick payment, so forget it.”  The drunken state of him, and his ego taking another hit from you encouraged his hand to swing at your face, slapping your cheek and flinging your mask off.  The initial gasp that left you was because of the removal of your mask, not the pain in your blaring red cheek.

You looked to the ground, ready to bend and chase your mask and replace it over your face, but your chin was grasped in the man’s rough touch as he jerked your head up and and looked at you.  He moved your face and head with the grip on your chin as he had his finger hooked under it. A sick chuckle left him and you nearly gagged without your mask to somewhat filter his breath.

“You’re not bad.”

“Excuse me,” you sneered at him.

“Easy on the eyes.  And now I know your face.”  He brought his other hand to your waist once again, his hand traveling to inch towards your ass.  Your eye twitched as you clenched your jaw. “I wouldn’t lash out darling. I know your face, that’s a big no-no towards your entire work life, isn’t it?”  He smirked and chuckled as he moved closer to you, and just as you had enough and was ready to bash your forehead against his, just to get him away from you, his body fell limp after an echoing bang in the alley.

He crumbled at your feet, his head pouring blood from a bullet that pierced through his head.  His eyes still open as his death wasn’t even processed by his brain. He didn’t have a second between life and his sudden bleeding after his last drunken breath.  You looked down the alley, watching as the ignition of two more rounds were fired off, small spark with each shot, each hitting one of his lap dogs who didn’t have the chance to even pull their guns out.  

You dashed for your mask as the fire-er of the gun spoke, their voice echoing in the alley way.

“No need for a cover, it’s not like we haven’t spoken without it before.”  You froze as your fingers hovered over your mask on the ground. You were kneeling as the man came into sight, a smile on his face as he was replacing his gun back behind him where it previously was stored.  You sputtered as the familiar, friendly face was now in front of you, pulling you back to your feet rather gently.

“Oh,” he started as he swiped his thumb across your cheek.  “You’ve got some blood on you. I didn’t mean to get you dirty.  I’m sorry if I startled you. I didn’t like the idea of them knowing your face, so I couldn’t let them really leave.  And don’t get me started on how I found you, pushed up against him, it was revolting.”

“Uh, Jackson?”  The man who you were just with a few hours ago stood in front of you, almost identical as then.  But now, he had just killed three men without a second thought. And, how did he find you? Who was he?  What did he know, what did he do, _what does he do?_   He looked down at you as he let you go.

“Hmm?  What is it sweetie?”

“What, I mean, _what_?” He chuckled at you as he pinched at your cheek.  

“You’re too cute. I couldn’t just sit there and watch as my little girl got touched by another man.” His words and actions both were just as confusing as the reason why he was standing in front of you.  You had so many questions, but couldn’t even begin on how to ask them. Jackson could see all of this in your widened eyes.

“I’ll give you all the answers you want, just ask.  I won’t turn away, and I wouldn’t dream of hurting you.  So ask whatever you want, alright?” He stroked at your cheek that was still hot from the slap you recieved earlier and he watched as you just slightly jumped away from his touch.  The action annoyed him, but he deduced that it was acceptable as you were probably well pasted confused at this point, not to mention your cheek could very well still sting.

“I uh, well, I guess I want to know where you came from?  Why are youhere? This place is usually looked over by civilians, so how do you know about it?  Why do you have a gun, and how did you shoot those men so easily? Why do you keep calling me names, and acting like you’re some boyfriend or something?” He chuckled as he pulled his gun out again from behind him, and you carefully eyed it.  

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to fire it.”  He took your hands and placed the firearm in your palms.  The weight was heavy, and he only used 3 bullets from his nearly fully stocked magazine.  “Take a look at the barrel.” You did as he said and saw an engraving of a symbol. It was a heptagonal shape with what you guessed was a Chinese symbol engraved in the center of it.  You’d seen this before, and honestly Jackson was beginning to scare you with how sneaky he was.

“You.. you’re involved with them?” Jackson once again chuckled.  

“You mean Jiāěr right?”  You nodded. “Do you know what Jiāěr translates to?”  You shook your head, you weren’t well versed in Chinese.  “It’s Jackson.” He stroked at your hair as he pushed your hood down and took his gun back.  “I’m not just ‘involved’ Y/N my dear, I’m leading it. I formed the syndicate into what it is now.”

Jackson stuffed his gun back behind him as he smiled at you again and used both of his hands to pet your head, slide them down to squish your cheeks and then finally rest on your shoulders and twist into your hair.  

“To answer your other questions, I act like I’m your ‘boyfriend’ because, simply put, I want to be.”  You nearly choked. This was a lot of information you were being forced to process. “Of course I’m not going to push anything, at the moment at least, but it is a short term goal I’ve set for myself.”

“Short term? You’re awfully cocky.”

“It comes with the job sweetheart.”

“Do you have a list of these names or something?”

“It comes naturally.  I don’t plan on using your name unless you get yourself into trouble with me.  But I don't know about that, that’s a dangerous game.”

“Getting into trouble, or getting involved with you, Jackson Wang?”

“Oh, you saying my name sounds good.”  

“Jackson.”

“Yes?”

“Why are you here?”

“I want you to work with me.”  You looked at him in suspicion.  With him? If he’s leading some top notch, overbearing, well known mob, _with him_ is a bit much.  Wouldn’t you be working _for_ him?  “No.” His sudden word caught you off guard.  “I can tell what your thinking, and no. I refuse to do anything but work _with_ you.  It’s either with, or I support you in your separate, solitary work.”

“You.. you’re serious?”  Your voice jumped a bit with your questioning octave.  You couldn’t believe what he was saying to you. Jackson Wang, the man you met at a robbery, the man you spent the afternoon with, the man who just confessed to be running a giant mafia-eqse mob was now proposing to work with you?  

“Dead serious.  I wasn’t lying when I said I wanted to be your boyfriend either you know.”  He bent down and picked up your mask that you still had on the ground, not having picked it up before.  He smirked as he placed a kiss on your cheek, slid your hood up and tucked your mask back on your face.

He called out into the alley and watched as three men came to him and began to take the bodies of the men he shot earlier away.  They couldn’t just leave them there, they needed to put them somewhere they would be seen. Jackson was a showman, he wouldn’t let his on-point work go without witness.  

“Think it over and let me know.  I’d like to pick you up from your classes tomorrow also, if you’d let me.”  

“Are you sure you have time to be messing around with me during the day.  Aren’t you busy?” He shrugged at your, now muffled, voice.

“Yes, but I can make time for you.”  You rolled your eyes under the mask. “You just rolled your eyes at me, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did.  You’re acting like a cheesy bachelor.” He laughed as he pushed on your shoulder.  

“Honestly though, think it over.  I do want to be around you.” You nodded at him as he then turned and left, but not before placing something in your hand that he pulled from his pocket.  He placed your knife in your hands, the very knife you lost 2 days ago.

The next day, just as he said, Jackson was standing at your college gates, where you ran into him yesterday.  He smiled at seeing you and ran to your side, immediately asking how your day was. It was no surprise that he earned attention, he was an attractive man talking to the quiet girl in class who was always in the top sector of the school grades.  By the end of the idle chit-chat, you had looked up at Jackson, looking at his eyes.

“I’ve thought about it.”  He grabbed your hand and dragged you away, so you could talk a bit more privately.  He took you to a small, secluded section of a nearby park, covered in shrubs and trees by a small pond.  He still hadn’t let go of your hand, and for some reason you had little doubt he’d be willing to let go of it anytime soon.

“So, you’ve thought?”

“I have.” you offered him a smile, one that made him smile happily back.  You didn’t even need to tell him now, he knew your answer. But he was going to make you say it anyways.  “I think I’d like to try it after all. Working with you that is.” Jackson pulled you closer to his body as he wrapped his other arm around your back, just under the bag that was on your back.  

“Perfect. I look forward to working with you, Darling.”  That’s all he said, with a perfect smile on his face, right before he kissed you.  

 


End file.
